Giving Thanks for Vegetables
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Thanksgiving may not be a French holiday, but as a celebration of the fall harvest it is a reflection of the approach the French take to food all year round—the use of fresh seasonal ingredients served at their prime moment. Turkey is, of course, the centerpiece of the feast, the sine qua non. If you’re not a fan of this often dry and tasteless bird, stay tuned for next week’s article on brining a turkey to turn it into something far more succulent than you could have imagined. But for many of us the real glory of Thanksgiving lies in the dishes that accompany the turkey. This is one of the few meals of the year where vegetables are never a mere afterthought. And furthermore, we eat a plethora of side dishes—dishes that are beloved and often traditions of long standing within a family.
I would never ask you to go without your favorite mashed potatoes or green beans almandine or whipped rutabagas or creamed onions or sage stuffing or cranberry sauce or whatever means Thanksgiving to your family. But every year I like to try a couple of new dishes, and some of them have gained tradition status; here are four. Red Onion Confit This is a delicious accompaniment to turkey; I—sacrilege!—prefer it to cranberry sauce (although I always make one of those too). It’s also great with any poultry, especially duck or goose, and with pork or ham. Keep in mind that it’s a condiment, almost a chutney, very intense in flavor, so serve small amounts. It keeps very well, so make it a week ahead of time and refrigerate it; reheat before serving. It also freezes perfectly well.
1/2 stick butter2 pounds red onions, halved from top to bottom and sliced thin1/4 cup sugar (or more)1 large clove garlic, minced fine1/2 cup balsamic or red wine vinegar1/4 cup water1/2 cup raisins, preferably golden, covered with boiling water, soaked for 1/2 hour, and drained1 bay leaf2 teaspoons chopped fresh rosemary or thyme leaves, or a generous 1/2 teaspoon dried
Melt the butter in a large skillet over medium heat and sauté the onions and sugar in the butter, stirring occasionally, until the onions are very soft and golden. Add the garlic and cook, stirring, until the fragrance is strong, about a minute. Add the remaining ingredients and cook, stirring from time to time, until the confit is thickened. Taste it for sweetness; you may want to add more sugar, and you almost certainly will if you’ve used red wine vinegar instead of balsamic. Serve hot or warm. Makes about 2 cups.
Roasted Root Vegetables The exact vegetable components of this dish are up to you. It can be as simple as carrots and parsnips, or a mixture of every root vegetable you can find. I won’t give you quantities, since this is more a procedure than a recipe, but I will tell you that when you roast the vegetables, they must be in a single layer or they won’t caramelize and have good flavor. Choose from among the following vegetables according to your taste: carrots, parsnips, white turnips, rutabaga, celery root, pearl onions, whole peeled garlic cloves. (Note that beets don’t work here because they bleed onto the other vegetables and make the dish unattractive.) Trim them and peel them, then cut into largeish bite-sized pieces (in the vicinity of 1 1/2 inches), remembering that they will shrink substantially during the roasting process. Toss them with just enough olive oil to coat them, then arrange them in a single layer in a heavy shallow roasting pan; season with salt and pepper.
If you’re using onions or garlic, don’t add them at this point; add the onions 20 minutes into the roasting time, and the garlic 40 minutes into the roasting time to prevent them from burning. Place the roasting pan in a preheated 400-degree oven. After 20 minutes, use a pancake turner to flip the vegetables over, scraping the bottom of the pan so that they don’t stick. Add the onions at this point if you’re using them. Turn the vegetables again in another 20 minutes, adding the garlic cloves if you’re using them. The total roasting time will depend on the size of the vegetables and how well-done you like them. I think they should be well-caramelized and no longer crunchy, which will take about an hour and a quarter total roasting time; if you prefer them less well-done, take them out of the oven earlier, perhaps in as little as 45 minutes. Toss the finished vegetables with a tiny bit more oil if they look very dry, and with your choice of minced fresh herbs: thyme, sage, and/or rosemary. (If you can’t find fresh herbs, toss the finished vegetables, while they’re still in the roasting pan, with a little oil and the dried herbs, then return them to the oven for 3-4 minutes and stir again before serving.
Brussels Sprouts with Shallots and Bacon These are Brussels sprouts for people who don’t like Brussels sprouts—and people who do, of course. In fact, if you don’t tell people what they’re eating, they’ll probably never guess. When you shop for sprouts, buy small ones if you possibly can. For this recipe it’s not necessary to have them be of uniform size. Trim off the bases and then slice them crosswise into 1/4-inch ribbons. In a large skillet over medium heat cook 1 slice of roughly chopped thick-sliced bacon for every 2 cups of whole sprouts that you started out with. When the bacon is crisp, remove it with a slotted spoon and set it aside on paper towels to drain. Pour off most of the bacon fat in the pan—you want just enough to film the bottom lightly. Add 1 minced shallot for every 2 cups whole sprouts and sauté, stirring, until softened. Then add the shredded sprouts and sauté, stirring occasionally, until the sprouts are just barely tender; they should…
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Thanksgiving may not be a French holiday, but as a celebration of the fall harvest it is a reflection of the approach the French take to food all year round—the use of fresh seasonal ingredients served at their prime moment. Turkey is, of course, the centerpiece of the feast, the sine qua non. If you’re not a fan of this often dry and tasteless bird, stay tuned for next week’s article on brining a turkey to turn it into something far more succulent than you could have imagined. But for many of us the real glory of Thanksgiving lies in the dishes that accompany the turkey. This is one of the few meals of the year where vegetables are never a mere afterthought. And furthermore, we eat a plethora of side dishes—dishes that are beloved and often traditions of long standing within a family.
I would never ask you to go without your favorite mashed potatoes or green beans almandine or whipped rutabagas or creamed onions or sage stuffing or cranberry sauce or whatever means Thanksgiving to your family. But every year I like to try a couple of new dishes, and some of them have gained tradition status; here are four. Red Onion Confit This is a delicious accompaniment to turkey; I—sacrilege!—prefer it to cranberry sauce (although I always make one of those too). It’s also great with any poultry, especially duck or goose, and with pork or ham. Keep in mind that it’s a condiment, almost a chutney, very intense in flavor, so serve small amounts. It keeps very well, so make it a week ahead of time and refrigerate it; reheat before serving. It also freezes perfectly well.
1/2 stick butter
2 pounds red onions, halved from top to bottom and sliced thin
1/4 cup sugar (or more)
1 large clove garlic, minced fine
1/2 cup balsamic or red wine vinegar
1/4 cup water
1/2 cup raisins, preferably golden, covered with boiling water, soaked for 1/2 hour, and drained
1 bay leaf
2 teaspoons chopped fresh rosemary or thyme leaves, or a generous 1/2 teaspoon dried
2 pounds red onions, halved from top to bottom and sliced thin
1/4 cup sugar (or more)
1 large clove garlic, minced fine
1/2 cup balsamic or red wine vinegar
1/4 cup water
1/2 cup raisins, preferably golden, covered with boiling water, soaked for 1/2 hour, and drained
1 bay leaf
2 teaspoons chopped fresh rosemary or thyme leaves, or a generous 1/2 teaspoon dried
Melt the butter in a large skillet over medium heat and sauté the onions and sugar in the butter, stirring occasionally, until the onions are very soft and golden. Add the garlic and cook, stirring, until the fragrance is strong, about a minute. Add the remaining ingredients and cook, stirring from time to time, until the confit is thickened. Taste it for sweetness; you may want to add more sugar, and you almost certainly will if you’ve used red wine vinegar instead of balsamic. Serve hot or warm. Makes about 2 cups.
Roasted Root Vegetables The exact vegetable components of this dish are up to you. It can be as simple as carrots and parsnips, or a mixture of every root vegetable you can find. I won’t give you quantities, since this is more a procedure than a recipe, but I will tell you that when you roast the vegetables, they must be in a single layer or they won’t caramelize and have good flavor. Choose from among the following vegetables according to your taste: carrots, parsnips, white turnips, rutabaga, celery root, pearl onions, whole peeled garlic cloves. (Note that beets don’t work here because they bleed onto the other vegetables and make the dish unattractive.) Trim them and peel them, then cut into largeish bite-sized pieces (in the vicinity of 1 1/2 inches), remembering that they will shrink substantially during the roasting process. Toss them with just enough olive oil to coat them, then arrange them in a single layer in a heavy shallow roasting pan; season with salt and pepper.
If you’re using onions or garlic, don’t add them at this point; add the onions 20 minutes into the roasting time, and the garlic 40 minutes into the roasting time to prevent them from burning. Place the roasting pan in a preheated 400-degree oven. After 20 minutes, use a pancake turner to flip the vegetables over, scraping the bottom of the pan so that they don’t stick. Add the onions at this point if you’re using them. Turn the vegetables again in another 20 minutes, adding the garlic cloves if you’re using them. The total roasting time will depend on the size of the vegetables and how well-done you like them. I think they should be well-caramelized and no longer crunchy, which will take about an hour and a quarter total roasting time; if you prefer them less well-done, take them out of the oven earlier, perhaps in as little as 45 minutes. Toss the finished vegetables with a tiny bit more oil if they look very dry, and with your choice of minced fresh herbs: thyme, sage, and/or rosemary. (If you can’t find fresh herbs, toss the finished vegetables, while they’re still in the roasting pan, with a little oil and the dried herbs, then return them to the oven for 3-4 minutes and stir again before serving.
Brussels Sprouts with Shallots and Bacon These are Brussels sprouts for people who don’t like Brussels sprouts—and people who do, of course. In fact, if you don’t tell people what they’re eating, they’ll probably never guess. When you shop for sprouts, buy small ones if you possibly can. For this recipe it’s not necessary to have them be of uniform size. Trim off the bases and then slice them crosswise into 1/4-inch ribbons. In a large skillet over medium heat cook 1 slice of roughly chopped thick-sliced bacon for every 2 cups of whole sprouts that you started out with. When the bacon is crisp, remove it with a slotted spoon and set it aside on paper towels to drain. Pour off most of the bacon fat in the pan—you want just enough to film the bottom lightly. Add 1 minced shallot for every 2 cups whole sprouts and sauté, stirring, until softened. Then add the shredded sprouts and sauté, stirring occasionally, until the sprouts are just barely tender; they should still have crunch to them. This will take about 5 minutes. Then add 1/4 cup heavy cream for every 2 cups of whole sprouts and raise the heat to medium-high. Cook, stirring, until the cream is reduced by about half; it should coat the sprouts and not pool in the skillet. Add a grating of fresh nutmeg—just a touch—and pepper to taste. You may or may not need salt, because of the bacon fat; taste and see. Transfer the sprouts to a serving dish and sprinkle with the reserved bacon.
Jalapeno-Cornbread Dressing All right, this is not remotely French. But boy, is it good. It’s a Southern-style dressing that I doped out for myself after eating at a defunct New York City restaurant called Texarkana, where it was served alongside roast suckling pig. You could stuff your turkey with this, but I never do—I like the crispy, crunchy texture the dressing takes on when it’s baked in an open pan. (And for another reason not to stuff your turkey, read next week’s turkey article).
To start with, you’ll need cornbread. After many years of making this dressing, I will tell you honestly that I think that Jiffy corn muffin mix makes a cornbread that is just dandy—just follow the muffin recipe, but bake the cornbread according to package directions in an 8-inch-square pan. If, however, you don’t believe me or just can’t stoop to the depths I do, I’ve given you a very nice cornbread recipe below. As for the jalapenos, let your heat tolerance be your guide, and keep in mind that you can never predict how hot a given pepper will be—you have to wing it a bit here. And do remember, when working with any hot pepper, never to touch your eyes, even for hours afterward. To save myself from possible pain, I wear rubber gloves when cutting them up—I have a box of disposable surgical gloves that I bought in the drugstore for this and other household tasks like painting.
Make your cornbread a day or more in advance and leave it out in the pan overnight, uncovered, to get a little stale. Crumble it coarsely with your fingers (if you won’t be making the dressing that day, store the crumbled cornbread in a well-sealed plastic bag at room temperature. For every 4 cups crumbled cornbread, sauté 1/2 cup finely chopped onion in 1/2 stick butter until golden. Scrape the onion and butter into a mixing bowl and let cool slightly, then beat in 1 large egg, 2-3 tablespoons turkey or chicken broth, and 2-4 slivered jalapeno peppers. Add the crumbled cornbread and toss until it’s evenly moistened, then transfer the dressing to a buttered shallow baking dish (don’t pack it down or it’ll be sodden). Bake in a preheated 350-degree oven for 30 minutes or until the dressing is golden-brown and crispy on the top.
Cornbread Mix together 3/4 cup yellow cornmeal, 3/4 cup all-purpose flour, 1/2 cup sugar, and 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder. In another bowl beat together 3/4 cup milk, 1/4 cup vegetable oil, and 1 large egg. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ones and stir just to moisten—do not overmix. Pour the batter into a buttered 8-inch-square baking pan and bake in a preheated 350-degree oven for 25-30 minutes or until golden.